Somewhere between Heaven and Hell
by faelyn leaf
Summary: Set during Sacrifices, a series of one shots following Liam's journey through Amn and beyond.
1. The Proper Way to Handle a Paladin

The Proper Way to Handle a Paladin  
  
The stench of burning oil hung in the air and a mob had gathered in the middle of the government district. The scent of burning oil mixed with the smell of unwashed bodies to form an overpowering stench. A drow woman was tied to a stake, and above the angry roar of the crowd, a group of men screamed profanities at her. The drow looked familiar somehow ... _Viconia_.  
  
Liam eyes widened. Forgetting his friends, he pushed through the crowd, demanding to know her crimes. No one answered. He marvelled at how calm she looked, and even in her vulnerable state, she looked regal. Her head was held up and she glared at the offensive crowd almost daring them to come closer. They backed away. She would not give her captors the satisfaction of crying out or screaming. That was not in her nature.  
  
He moved closer to the stake that held Viconia, and unsheathed his sword; encouraging the over zealous away with the flat of it. He unhooked Imoen's dagger from his belt, and cut Viconia's bonds. The drow gracefully slipped to the ground, and surveyed the would be vigilantes with a sneer. The crowd became incensed, but when Viconia started drawing from her goddess' divine powers, the rage quickly dissolved into fear, and the crowd fled.  
  
"Cowards," Viconia spat.  
  
"You rescued a dark elf?" Keldorn asked incredulously, as he, Jaheira and Anomen appeared. "These creatures are vile, Liam, and deserve -"  
  
"Interesting," Liam cut in, his voice cold, his smile ironic. "Would you say the same about me? But of course not. No, Keldorn," his eyes glinted dangerously, "I helped a friend of mine. Her name is Viconia."  
  
"So you do have some spine in you, Liam. Impressive." Viconia pronounced the last word in that sultry tone of hers, making Anomen squirm. The tense situation became worse when Viconia baited the squire, and was not satisfied until he was completely scarlet. Then, she turned her attention to Keldorn, who became livid when she told him, in detail, about how much she loved to play with sanctimonious paladins, and just how wicked they could be - given the proper motivation. Of course, what Keldorn didn't know was that Ajantis had complained about Liam's unpaladine behaviour, and lectured him on the evils of premarital ... everything. There had been no vocalised grievances about Viconia's presence, but that could have been because Ajantis had been intimidated by her. Liam did not want to know the particulars of how Viconia and Imoen got rid of him, although Viconia had volunteered that they had driven him away with what he desired most. That had been more than enough information.  
  
It seemed to Liam that Viconia had been reading his mind. "Tell me, jaluk, where is your irritatingly cheerful lover?"  
  
Liam felt his throat constrict. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked towards the ground. "Captured," he managed to say after a few moments. "She was captured by the Cowled Wizards." Viconia looked surprised, and Liam hastily answered her unspoken question, "We were abducted after leaving Baldur's Gate, and after escaping from our host's dungeon, we were again confronted by him. Imoen tried to defend us with magic, but..." Liam forced those images out of his mind. Later, he promised himself. This will wait for when I have time.  
  
In something akin to sympathy, Viconia bit her lip. "How ... disappointing. Imoen and I had a most interesting conversation, when we last travelled. One that I had wished to continue." She paused when Liam, despite himself, started to grin. "Yes, I would think that you have appreciated the art of -"  
  
"Soo ..." Liam exaggerated the loudness of his voice, cutting off Viconia's sentence, "How long are you staying with us this time?"  
  
Her eyes flashed in amusement at the change of topic, but she did not call him on it. "Are you saying that you have need of my services? It does not appear that you have as much coin as when we last parted, so we shall have to come to an agreement later."  
  
"It is not enough that we rescue the creature, now we must -" Keldorn was silenced by a glare from Jaheira.  
  
"Alright, Viconia."  
  
"You realize that I will also need weapons, proper garments and armour ..." She turned to Keldorn and Anomen, "Yes, of course you do. She moved closer to Anomen and ran her finger down the length of his breast plate, and smiled sadistically at seeing the desired blush. "Pathetic. Where are you staying, Liam?"  
  
"The Seven Vales, in the Promenade."  
  
"Good, I will see you there. You," she pointed at Anomen, "Will come with me. I shall need someone to carry my purchases." Anomen nodded feebly.  
  
As she walked away, Anomen in foot, Keldorn frowned, "By Torm, what just happened?"  
  
"That," Liam laughed, "Was Viconia accepting charity."


	2. A Paladin's Fall

A Paladin's Fall  
  
I walk towards her; she seems no more than a ghost, a dreamed apparition after all this time. My companions are watching from a distance, determined that no harm will come to me while in this dazed state.  
  
Sixty seven days or not, I am foolishly confident that she is somehow the same Imoen that was before Irenicus. In the days after her capture by the Cowled Ones, I had forced myself to forget that I had to carry her out of Irenicus' dungeon, that she had clung to me sobbing as we ventured towards the light of the outside. In my naivety, I had pictured a different reunion. Laughter and smiling, the light would have returned to her eyes, and perhaps mine.  
  
Reality, however, is a harsh mistress.  
  
I can hear Jaheira pacing, muttering about mad wizards. Her words are not lost on me, and as move closer to Imoen, I see just how true they are. Imoen sits on the filthy stone floor, eyes downcast. If she sees me she does not let it show. If she recognises me, her expression is equally as apathetic.  
  
One of my footsteps has caught her attention. She stares up at me, and her face turns to snow. My dreams were right. I did come too late. I have played the part of the epic paladin too long, and only now do I understand how foolish I have been. I am the rescuer of damsels, slayer of dragons, saviour of entire towns. I am the _hero_ of Baldur's Gate and, indeed, the Sword Coast.  
  
I am also a coward. It was my own fear that kept me from reaching her until now. Afraid that the Imoen I loved would never be again, I left her here to rot until I was able to suppress any lingering doubts. Even as I needed her, I stayed in Amn, craven, all the while risking my life, and those of my friends everyday. Imoen was the one to pay for my cowardice.  
  
I kneel before her, as I did in the dungeon. She shies back as she did in that created hell. This time, there are no games I can play to make her smile, no quips to make her laugh. I was arrogant to believe they ever could. She submits to my touch as I bring my hand up to caress her pale cheek. In that instant, what is left of my youthful fantasies shatter like so many pieces of broken glass.  
  
It's alright Imoen, I'm here now. Everything will be fine. I can hear my voice faltering, and the words are ludicrously hollow. Empty promises - I am not sure why I bother. I pick her up, and carry her, like a child back to the others. She is stiff in my embrace, and I can feel her tremble where she used to laugh.  
  
She is everything to me, and it was my cowardice that did this to her.


	3. Parting Mists

Parting Mists

When a person enters the Underdark, they will find an alien place. It is completely surreal and significantly more dangerous than anything they have ever encountered before. This deadly place, full of spoken half truths, lies and deceits is, like most things truly fatal, hauntingly enchanting.  
  
Phosphorescent lichens provide an eerie, yet breathtaking glowing light that serves to guide those who do not yet know the paths. It trails up columns, grows on boulders and climbs up the smooth cavern walls. Subterranean lakes hold an abundant array of yet-unnamed aquatic life. Streams run through the cracks in the caves and provide an never ending supply of minerals for the building of ominous stalactites and stalagmites. In some places, water is turned into steam and a murky fog clutches onto everything it touches and hides it from view.  
  
When the mist finally recedes, nothing is as it was before.  
  
"I guess we better stop for a rest." Liam motioned to a clearing among the stalagmites. He kicked some pebbles away in a lax attempt to clear the prospective area.  
  
No one questioned or disagreed.  
  
Already the small group was worn down. They had been attacked by countless elementals, a party of Drow priestesses and warriors, and several illithids. The restoration spells that Anomen used had drained his energy to the point where the young cleric was falling asleep standing up. And, although she wouldn't admit it, Jaheira wasn't any better.  
  
Liam helped set up the healers' bedrolls, while Jaheira managed to create a small fire. It was Keldorn who attended to Imoen. It had been an unspoken yet unanimous decision that no one was to discuss the mage's relationship with Liam, nor was anyone to question her on what happened to her at Irenicus' hands.  
  
_Irenicus..._  
  
If he could have seen himself, Liam would have seen his eyes turn the hard obsidian of the Slayer's. As it was, he felt the boiling, invigorating hate seep out from under his many, hastily built defences.  
  
"Easy there, lad." Keldorn's voice was soft as he laid a restraining hand on Liam's shoulder.  
  
"Torm... I... She must hate me."  
  
Keldorn glanced to where Imoen sat and Liam followed the older paladin's eyes. Her face was impassive as she studied her spell book, but as she looked up and met Liam's eyes, an acute, and all too readable pain washed over her features.  
  
"No," the elder paladin's voice was barely audible, "I doubt she could hate you."  
  
"No, not at all. After all, I am her _brother_!" The word was an oily film in his throat. "Why didn't Torm tell me, Keldorn?" It was not a venomous question, merely the query of one who is losing faith.  
  
"I do not know." Keldorn's saddened grey eyes returned to the figure of Imoen once more. "That is something that I cannot answer."  
  
Liam nodded. Not for the first time since Spellhold, a feeling that Torm had somehow betrayed him ate at his soul. _Oh wait, that's right. I have no soul. Never mind then._  
  
Keldorn seemed to sense what he was thinking. "The way of the gods is not always known to mortals, Liam." He turned his head to seemingly take in the pitch black surroundings. "There is a reason why he did not tell you."  
  
It was cold comfort.  
  
"Come, Liam. We all could do with some sleep."  
  
Imoen avoided his eyes as Liam slipped into his bedroll. Conveniently, the person who set it had also arranged it so that he would be next to her. The rogue paladin scowled at the now sleeping form of Jaheira. He could swear that a satisfied smile played at the ends of her mouth.  
  
_Bloody meddling Harpers._  
  
It was the sound of Imoen shuffling her blankets that startled Liam awake. Without thinking, Liam pulled out a blanket from his roll and handed it to Imoen. He watched through half open eyes as the mage stuffed it into her own makeshift bed. The embers of the dying fire surrounded her in a luminous soft glow. For a few, precious moments, there was no anguish, no Bhaal, no Irenicus.  
  
Liam moved closer to her and lay his arm across her enclosed chest.  
  
She pulled away from him. "Goodnight, Lee."


	4. The Significance of Prayer

The Significance of Prayer  
  
What is a prayer?  
  
To some, it is nothing more than the convoluted ramblings of the desperate. A way to find some semblance of peace in an unforgiving and callous world; a chance to gain the attention of the otherwise silent and unmoved celestials.  
  
This may all be true, but there is more to a prayer. It goes beyond the words uttered in spiritual devotion. Its very nature rests within the divine soul, and its mere presence can bring joy to a tired spirit.  
  
Without it, we are mere shreds of our former selves. Shadows entrench themselves in the human spirit, creating bitterness and despair in their wake. Darkness invades, and with it comes cynicism and desolation. A once bright soul becomes nothing more than a withered phantom.  
  
It is hope.  
  
Liam took another sip of his ale. It was dwarven in origin, he could tell by the strength of the alcohol. He sat alone, in Keldorn's dimly lit private study. The others had already found their beds, and were preparing their spells for the day that lay ahead. The once paladin drank another mouthful of the bitter ale.   
  
By some sardonic jest of his former god, he was still able to wield Carsomyr. Liam smiled grimly. Perhaps Torm intended to have the blade fail him the moment he needed it the most. He laughed at the image of trying to fend of a hoard of vampires with his bare hands. At least they wouldn't be able to enslave his soul.  
  
Liam drank another large mouthful of ale, willing the vision to be banished. An inheritance from his sire, it took a great deal of alcohol to get him intoxicated, but feasibly, the amount he had drank would dim the pain. That, or enhance it. It didn't matter which, not anymore. He sat the emptied flask on the desk, where it landed with a soft thud.  
  
Looking for a distraction, Liam leaned over in his chair to study the portraits of Vesper and Leona that graced Keldorn's desk.  
  
_Children. She had always wanted children..._  
  
He blinked several times before his eyes wandered to where his empty tankard lay. Best that he stop now, anyway. From newly acquired experience, he had found that the solace alcohol gave was diminutive at best. He glided his fingers over its smooth rim before picking it up and depositing it in the kitchen.   
  
Tomorrow. He could live through tomorrow. He would have to. Perhaps not by much, but he would see things to their proper end. Imoen's soul was at stake, and he would be damned if he would let himself fail her again.


End file.
